Last of Me
by Kyle Castorena
Summary: Before Goku, before Frieza, before Planet Vegeta, there were simply the Saiyans. Last of Me follows two individuals from different tribes, their roles in their respective societies, and their interactions with each other. Through the stories of Maize and Squeesh, the entire culture of the Saiyan race will be examined and questioned.
1. The Great Tribe Meeting

_Hello everyone. Welcome to my new project,_ Last of Me _. This story was a was inspired by the rush of new Dragon Ball Z/Super media that's been released this past year. I loved the two recent movies, the Xenoverse video game, as well as the abridged series by Team 4 Star. It was a lot of fun revisiting the series after so long, and I'm really having a lot of fun with this story as well._

Last of Me _takes place thousands of years before the events of DB/Z/Super. This is a completely original story with an entirely original cast. This will be a story of the Saiyans, an examination of their culture and customs. Action will be rather light in the first half, and it will more resemble Period Dramas like_ Gou - Himetachi no Sengoku _or_ Downton Abbey, _than anything from the shonen genre from which the original defined. It might not be for everyone, but I wouldn't post something without substance. I feel like there's a lot to enjoy here._

 _Before I begin, I must share what was my biggest inspiration for starting_ Last of Me _. It was actually a song of the same name that I found online. After hearing it once I absolutely fell in love with it and listened to it over and over again. It's easy enough to dig up, so I'll keep from telling you exactly where to find it. Give it a listen because it truly is a wonderful song, even if the story inspired by it turn out to be total crap (lol)._

 _Anyway, without further ado~_

* * *

 **Act 1**

 **The Great Tribe Meeting**

* * *

For the past several minutes, Maize has been busy wiping down her furniture and tidying up. Even though she keeps her home immaculate, upon _feeling_ that guests were coming she'd been in a tizzy. All matter of speck and dust were eliminated, plants rotated on windowsills, and she boiled water for tea. In the little time it takes her to accomplish that, she then turns to herself. There wasn't anything she could do about her clothes in the time allowed (not that her normal attire wasn't stylish and sleek), but she did spend a number of minutes on her hair. To the point of obsession she combed her long black hair so there wasn't a single strand out of place or split end, but also her tail so it had a golden sheen. All of which was done with such precision, it was all accomplished with her eyes closed.

With her guests finally arriving at the front door, Maize opens before they even have a chance to knock.

"Hello Dekkon, Mellen."

The man, Dekkon, is a very fit male in traditional tribal robes with exposed arms and half chest, leaps when surprised like that.

Laughing a bit at himself, "I can never get used to that."

The female to his side, Mellen, is buxom with roundish proportions and a motherly aura, giggles at the male's reaction, "Maize is always full of surprises. Even though her eyes don't work, it's like she can _see_ everything anyways."

Blushing very faintly, "It's not like that at all. My other senses just take over for what my eyes don't. I still trip and bump into stuff all the time."

Maize did not keep her eyes closed in some kind of display of greater ability, but because there was no reason to do the opposite. Unlike her two guests with black irises, and the rest of the Saiyan race, Maize's are opaque, resembling a shade of silver.

"Come in. I've been expecting you."

As Maize leads the pair to their seats, the tea is just about boiled. Deftly the blind woman traverses her kitchen and approaches the stove. Showing not a wasted movement, she takes a pair of mittens and takes the hot kettle. There should be a handle on the hot container, but it appears to have snapped off at some point. Still, the woman carries herself superbly despite her handicap.

"Here you go," she hands her guests a pair of cups.

"Thank you Maize!" shouts Mellen in an overjoyed manner, while Dekkon is hesitant to drink anything that doesn't contain alcohol.

"So," Maize takes a seat across from them at her table, "what brings the both of you to come visit me?"

If Maizes eyes worked, she'd see Mellen stiffen.

"In three day's time there's going to be a meeting between us and the Sorr Tribe, and we'd like you to attend."

Certainly was this a situation Maize didn't consider. If anything she was expecting to be asked to babysit for a number of days. As Dekkon is their Tort Tribe's leader, the situation's arose more than a time or two. She didn't even know about the meeting, rather than being invited.

"I'm not certain what use _I_ could be."

"You only need to attend. Several others will be there too. It's a, show of numbers sort of deal."

"'Show of numbers?'"

"Don't worry!" Mellen takes over for her husband's too straightforward manner of speech. "It's a peaceful gathering! We just want people there as a show of courtesy."

Maize still doesn't think this is the sort of affair suitable for her, but the two of them did come all the way out here to see her.

"As long as I don't have to really do anything..." she still isn't sure of herself.

"Wonderful!" Mellen claps her hands. "Trust me, all you'll have to do is sit there. And you won't be alone either. It might feel like we're putting you on display, but it won't be so bad because so many others will be as well. You can _share_ the embarrassment."

That wasn't exactly why Maize was unsure, but what did she mean by "embarrass?"

"Good," Dekkon stands from his chair, "then that is all."

"Wait up honey!" his wife reaches for him. Maize also flinched when Dekkon suddenly announced he'd leave, but nobody else caught it. "We can at least chat a bit!"

"You can stay behind if you want, but I still have business to attend to."

And just as he said, Dekkon leaves.

Place a hand on her cheek, Mellen sighs, "What am I going to do with him?"

To ease her friend's worried expression, "Dekkon is the tribe's chief after all," doing well to mask her disappointment. "He's busy. I'm just glad he actually came down to see me."

Now that scold has been turned on Maize, "You're too submissive! Just because you're blind doesn't mean you have to seclude yourself like a hermit! You should come and live in the village with the rest of us! We won't chase you out with torches and pitchforks!"

For as long as they've been friends, this pair has had this same argument countless times over.

"It's too noisy in the village. I like this forest just fine."

Puffing cheeks and hands on her hips, "You know what some of the children call you? They call you the Witch of the Forest."

This is certainly news to her, "'Witch of the Forest?'"

"It's because you never come to the village and you never leave this hut!"

Maize complains, "I leave the hut."

"That's not the point!" stomping her feet. "You never socialize! People forget who you are! They treat you like a mythical creature! That's the reason you can't-!" but then catches herself and stifles her own mouth.

Perhaps what was about to be said was something to take great offense to, but Maize only smiles solemnly.

"We both know the reason they treat me the way they do isn't because I don't get out enough. If something were to happen, and we needed to defend ourselves, nobody wants to be burdened by a pathetic female who can't even change into the Oozaru on the full moon. At this point, my tail is only a decoration. I'm Saiyan in name only."

"That's not true! It's, just," but can't find words to retort.

A placed on Mellen's shoulder causes her whole body to shiver. She finds her friend smiling at her.

"It's fine. It really is. I'll come to the tribe meeting and play the part."

Mellen goes through a hurricane of emotions. First it's sad, then melancholic, then angry.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore!" she selfishly shouts, panging the hypersensitive ears of the blind woman. "How are you doing out here? Have you been fine? Anything going on?"

Rubbing her almost punctured eardrums, "Nothing much. But I did find a new species of flower I hadn't before in the forest. I've been experimenting with new types of perfumes and shampoos."

Eyes widen and sparkle, "Really? That's great! Dekkon never really went for softer, fluffier hair, but my kids love em! I can't wait to try our your new recipes!"

Giggling herself, "As always my trial products are free, but if it works out my prices are rather high."

Matching the good humor, "You always give me my money's worth!"

* * *

"I don't see why we don't just kill all the men and take their women."

"If it were that simple then everybody would be doing it," the croakish voice responds. "It's called 'diplomacy.' It means winning a fight without actually fighting."

The large male speaking with the one with a frog-like voice leans against the table and props his cheek against a hand, "But fighting's all the fun."

Sighing, "It's not all the fun. Females are fun too."

"But I already have a mate. Between the two, fighting is more fun."

Enraged, "You're only speaking for yourself! Not all of us have females! That's the problem in the first place!"

This pair sits in a largely empty bar. Normally, even at this morning hour, it's filled with rowdy patrons drinking to start their day. Today, regular on occasion, it's been cleared for these two men save the barkeep. Beams of light from the rising sun dawn upon the leaders of the Sorr Tribe through the large open-air windows.

"Squeesh, just take one of ours," the big one suggests.

"There aren't any Umpkin!" Squeesh croaks.

"Then just fight and take some."

"The men don't want to fight anymore because they don't have any heirs! How many times do I have to point this out to you?"

The large one doesn't seem to take any concern with Squeesh's raised voice, instead looking increasingly disinterested by the moment.

"I'll just let you take care of it."

Finally the smaller frog-like Saiyan can breathe again, "Yes, I've already completed most of the necessities. All we need to do now is go and make it official."

"You take care of it."

And Squeesh was so close to being able to relax again, "If I could I would have just done this all on my own. I need you to come with me and meet their chief."

Playing with his now empty cup, "Which tribe is it again?"

"(tort)"

"What?" obviously he couldn't hear.

Sighing, "It's the Tort Tribe."

"Tort?" then thinking. "Oh! Isn't Dekkon their leader?"

Knowing full well where this is going, Squeesh face palms to preempt the headache, "Yes."

"I like fighting Dekkon! We should fight him! I'll do it one on one, and the winner gets the women!"

"Why would he ever agree to that? The women are already in his tribe."

It takes a few moments more for Umpkin to realize, "Oh, that's right." Only now genuinely curious, "Why would he agree to the deal anyway?"

"Well, think about it. If our males are marrying their females, then isn't it like our tribe is marrying their tribe? We're basically merging and becoming brothers-in-law."

This does not compute.

"We're going to be allies," Squeesh further explains. "We're not going to fight against each other anymore."

Then, seemingly heartbroken, "But, but, I like fighting Dekkon."

Shrugging his shoulders, "He might agree to a spar, but other than that we'll only be fighting together from now on, not against each other."

Umpkin, slamming his hands against the table, "But I like fighting Dekkon!"

Feeling the anger rising from his companion, Squeesh begins sweating a little, "Calm down. Just think of it this way." Leaning in closer, Umpkin doing the same, "If our tribes join, they'll be bigger. If we're bigger, we can fight even larger tribes. We can challenge people even stronger than Dekkon."

The large man's eyes go wide and even sparkle, "Oh! That's right! I haven't been everywhere. Maybe there are people stronger than Dekkon further away." Wrapping an arm over his friend's shoulder in a half hug, "Squeesh, you're so smart! That's why you're my tactician! Together, we'll fight all over Saiya!"

Hearing the mention of World Conquest and impossible dreams, Squeesh adverts his eyes, "Ah, yeah."

Of course the "tactician" knows Dekkon would never go for that. This deal is going to brokerage several years, if not decades, of peace. But he couldn't tell Umpkin, the Sorr's Tribe leader this. If he did, the deal would never go through and they'd likely be wiped out by the next generation. Lying can put off the problem of their leader's one-track personality for somewhere down the line, but it'll have to be addressed one way or another eventually. For now, all the tactician can do is use honeyed words and false promises.

"So I can count on you to come with me tomorrow?" Squeesh feels guilty asking.

"Sure! I'll be there with barbs on!"

"It's bells," Squeesh corrects, speaking under his breath so his leader not hear.

* * *

Carefully lead by the hand, Maize leans on Mellen's shoulder. They carefully navigate through the narrow hall littered with dolls, clothes, and whatever other objects left lying on the floor by the children.

"It's so rare you actually come to the village!" Mellen squeals.

"Well, there was something I should have asked while you were at my house yesterday and I forgot. I didn't have a choice but to come down."

Leading Maize to sit at the table, Mellen likewise takes a seat, "What is it?"

Seeming hesitant, the blind female's head downturns while slightly blushing, "Well, I need a working pair of eyes. It'll be a public gathering, right? It's time I buy some new robes."

Processing the entirety of her friend's request, Mellen's spirit gradually inflates.

"Does that mean, you're asking me to go shopping with you?"

"Hmm."

Clapping hands, and startling the one with hypersensitive hearing in the process, "That's fantastic! We can leave-"

Just then a scamper of feet rush into the sitting area. Two girls below the age of 10 chase one after another. Screaming, they're fighting about something or another.

"Cele! Lea!" taking a tone which was far from the jovial of only moments prior. "We have a guest! What have I said about having company!"

Terrorized by the sudden onset of bloodlust, the young girls immediately stand at military attention and hold just like that.

"Now, turn around, pick up all that junk in the hall, go to your rooms, and be quiet!"

And like good little soldiers, they do as ordered.

Sighing, Maize then hears a tone from the merry mother she hadn't in years, "Kids; they're absolutely wonderful."

Giggling quietly to herself, a genuinely warm smile on her face, "Yes, they certainly are."

Smirking, not that Maize would ever see it, Mellen nearly mocks her friend's ignorance, "Well, why don't we-"

But is halted by Maize's raised finger to her lips. Turning to the hall where the girls had previously vacated, "Can I help you, young warrior?"

Upon being called out, the figure hidden, so quiet even the mother didn't notice, a young boy sheepishly paces from his hiding place. Hands held together, face down turned, cheeks blush, is a child maybe 4 or 5.

Fidgeting, he stands there silent.

Mellen's about to tell the next family heir to go back to his room, but knows Maize is up to something. The mother want's to know what her friend is planning.

"Tomoto, do you want to join us?"

Instead of speaking, the boy shyly nods, ears now turning red. Pittering and pattering his little feet, Tomoto comes to Maize's side. As he does, the woman takes the boy and places him on her thigh. Once there, he nestles up against her bosom like a cat returning to his favorite spot to nap.

"Oh dear," Mellen exclaims, "quiet the lady killer that one. I might have something to worry about when he gets older."

Maize gently rocks back and forth in the chair, "It's not that. He just remembers when I used to hold him like this when he was a baby."

"He does love it when you babysit. He doesn't even cuddle up to his own mother like that anymore."

For a moment Maize cracks a grin, "Not everyone likes a lumpy mattress. Some people prefer it to be a little more firm."

For a god-honest moment, Melen contemplates throwing a fork at her friend.

"We still have another day before the meeting," the homeowner detracts. "We could go to the markets tomorrow if you so like."

Rubbing Tomoto's hair, his own eyes dozing off to sleep, "I'd like to get it done today if we can. But if you're too busy with the kids it can wait."

Mellen thinks about it for a second, "Well, I'd hate to ask my sister-in-law to watch them again after I dropped them on her yesterday, so if you don't mind them tagging along we can go right now."

The blind woman smiles, "I don't mind. Maybe I could treat them to a candy or something later."

"Please, nothing with sugar."

* * *

"So, is it true? Is it true?"

Squeesh had been drowning his anxieties at the bar when one of the younger elites rushed him. He'd like to tell the kid to buzz off, but he possesses just enough rank that the tactician can't simply do that.

"What are you talking about?" as if it could be anything other than _that_.

"That we're getting females. Females!" he almost can't keep it in his pants.

'Getting females' is oversimplifying it to the point of absurdity, but the specifics likely don't matter to the eager beaver.

"We are entering into an alliance with the Tort Tribe, and a part of the agreement involves cohabitation. There is no-"

"Wahoooo!" Jumping onto his chair, the elite speaks to the other patrons. "Did you hear that? Squeesh got us females!"

This could turn very bad very quick. The shorter male reaches up and pulls down the younger one.

"Would you shut up!" he threatens in a hushed voice. "It's not official until the meeting tomorrow! Don't get everybody's hopes up!"

It wasn't exactly a secret, but it was also far from a done deal. There were several reasons The Sorr Tribe's tactician didn't want to go public with this information. One, it could all go south if tomorrow proceeds unexpectedly. Two, there's no guarantee all the males will be married off. It's not going to be a farmers market where Sorr's males could simple _pick one_ and that was that. Cohabitation meant consent was required by the female. As their tribes have been at battle for Umpkin's tenure as leader, it's understandable some of the females might hold reservations.

"Yeah, sure," the kid seems to dismiss his superior's words.

Not taking anymore of this disrespect, Squeesh grabs the boy by the collar and pulls him close, "Listen, fresh meat, there's no guarantee this pact will go through, and if it doesn't, we'll have a riot if some idiot said it was a done deal when it wasn't."

Eyes bulging from lax of oxygen to the brain, he looks a lot like a fish. Disgusted with the whole affair, Squeesh tosses the youth aside and disregards as he rolls across the barroom floor. While they might not have known the exact context of the argument, it's gone largely ignored as the remaining Saiyans merely continue to get drunk and likewise fight with each other.

"Tsk," Squeesh clicks his tongue.

There are a few eyes on him. A few managed to overhear the kid's outburst and are now sizing the "tactician" up.

"I'm tired of being surrounded by idiots," Squeesh pays the tab and leaves.

Squeesh truly hates his position-no, hates those who can't understand the importance of his position. Saiya is a barbaric world; governed by the excessive use of force. It's people are likewise brutal, solving practically all it's problems by fighting and killing. Umpkin's rational isn't exactly rare, and if not for those rare few like Squeesh, the Saiyans would be nothing more than animals. But the worst of it is, the rest can't appreciate the contribution a tactician makes.

"It's better to be lucky than smart," Squeesh laments.

How exactly did it get to the point where there became a shortage of females? Drink, fight, make babies; that's the Saiyan race in a nutshell. So how exactly did the ratio become so skewed their Sorr Tribe could no longer stand on it's own? Squeesh didn't have the answer, but did a solution. If the Sorr couldn't stand on it's own, it would ask Tort for help.

Invading another tribe was indeed a solution, but if the kidnapping failed they would be spiraling on a path towards destruction. That's why Squeesh chose to branch out. That's why Squeesh had to make the decision to branch out. If not, their stupid little tribe would destroy itself. He might not receive any recognition, but it was a hard decision that had to be made. As long as the tribe survives he should be happy, but,

"I really want a mate," he says while kicking a pebble on his way home.

Even if he was a tactician, a Saiyan who thinks before he acts, he's still a warrior. He realizes fast he's being followed. There's three of them. Is it that boy and his posse? Maybe. Looking for revenge? Normally Squeesh isn't against throwing down in a stupid street brawl, but he's weary being this close to the Tribe Meeting. One of those stupid Saiyans likely hatched a stupid plan.

"What do you want?" Squeesh speaks while looking over his shoulder, not in the mood to put up with games.

Indeed it was that elite youth from before, and two of his knuckle dragging friends. They break from their current bush and meet him in the path. Indeed, this is going to turn ugly.

"Hey, Squeesh, don't be so unfair."

So is this not about the disrespect in the bar?

"You're going tomorrow to the Tort Tribe with chief, right?"

He declines to comment.

"Don't you think it's a bit, bias, to be the only one going with Chief Umpkin?"

That's not the correct usage of the word, but whatever.

"It will be an official ceremony. If we arrive in a giant mob, it wouldn't look so good to the Tort Tribe. Umpkin and I are going as the bare necessity."

The kid walks over and puts a hand on the tactician's shoulder, "I'm not saying the entire tribe go, but don't you think it wouldn't be unreasonable for a few bodyguards to escort our leader?"

The position of Tribe Leader is chosen from the strongest in the village. The very notion that Umpkin needs a bodyguard is flawed on it's premise.

"Umpkin can manage on his own."

"Yes, he could, but what if something happened to you? What would happen to the deal if something happened to our _great tactician_?"

His two buddies laugh at the last part.

"The deal would fall apart. If the one who brokered it wasn't present or was killed, it'd be seen as weakness on our part. The Tort want a strong ally in exchange for some females. If we appear we're already falling apart, they might just take the opportunity to kill Umpkin."

Squeesh didn't want to admit it, but he told the absolute truth. He knows full well where this is going, which is why he doesn't want to relent any of his standing in their favor.

"See, it's dangerous. It's better to travel in at least a small group. So that's why myself, and my two buddies, volunteered to protect _you_. We too want to work as emissaries of peace."

Normally Squeesh would praise the boy's wit, but there is a danger in his ulterior motives. Sorr's is the position of weakness, nor Tort's. It is Tort's prerogative to disagree.

"I can take care of myself just fine."

This continued refusal isn't going too well with the boys.

"Hmmm, I don't know. You might be the tactician, the second in command, but that doesn't mean you're the second strongest. Let's say you were jumped by three Tort upstarts who don't want you to lay a hand on their females. How would you manage?"

And so, it's come down to this in the end.

"I think I would manage something like this!"

And Squeesh throws himself at the three elites.

Regardless of the outcome of the brawl, Squeesh, with a battered face, finds his leader with four individuals as they prepare to set off the next morning.

"Hey, Squeesh, I told my boys here about us getting some females, and they wanted to come along to see them."

Squeesh really hates idiots.

* * *

Maize was worried over her recent actions. May she be so bold, the blind female would say she's was actually getting excited, and looking forward to the Tribe Meeting. Why would that be? A chance to appear in public? A chance to act for the good of the tribe and be a part of the community? Maybe, but that's all the more reason she shouldn't be doing this; getting her hopes up. There's a very good reason she's isolated. There's a reason she _needs_ to be in solitude. Has she been alone for so long she simply forgot?

But such thoughts are forced to the back of her mind. She spent all night working on the fabric purchased yesterday, and now it's finally complete. Even if she is blind, she'd be able to make such a purchase on her own. What she couldn't do on her own was make a decision based on color and appeal. As far as she's concerned, color is an abstract concept that would never really effect her. Despite how well she might sew, the whole effort would be wasted if the arrangement was painful to the eyes. For that she definitely needed the opinion of her (only) friend.

She'd lost track of time until feeling the warmth of sunrise an hour ago, so it should be about 4 more hours until the meeting. That's only enough for a quick nap before having to start getting prepared.

Thankfully a side effect of being blind is that a person's internal clock basically becomes worthless. Normally someone's daily rhythms become synced with the sun. As Maize has never even seen the sun, she merely sleeps when tired and remains active when not. Generally her "days" are longer than a normal person's, and sleeps frequently but at irregular intervals. It could come anytime from morning till noon, evening through midnight, or sometimes sleep all day. But as a result, Maize can fall asleep wherever and nearly wake up exactly when she desires, almost to the minute. Maize takes a quick nap of 2 hours.

Waking up not entirely refreshed but well enough, she heads off to bathe. Normally bathing only involves a basin and towel, but despite not appearing so, the blind woman likes to indulge. Taking a towel, light robe, and the shampoo and soap crafted by herself, Maize heads through the forest to a stream only she knows about.

Maize deftly traverses the forest. She steps over roots, ducks below branches, and circles around trees. Doing so keenly, one would never expect she were blind. In her own home, she counts steps, commits everything's placement to memory, and becomes completely familiar with her surroundings. She has no idea what her own house even looks like, but she paints a vivid image in her head, capturing every minuet detail, and navigates her life in a manner that doesn't make her appear handicap. But that only goes as far as her own home. She is blind. When in a setting unfamiliar, she _will_ stumble and fall. However, how she traverses the forest is neither of these. Then again, she stubs a toe against a rock and nearly spills.

After cleansing herself in the stream, Maize returns home and prepares. Hair dried and painstakingly combed, outfit assembled and worn with caution, the woman is just about finished when there's a knock at the door.

Heart beating faster, blood rushing to her cheeks, Maize tells the guest, "Come in."

Mellen enters with no little fanfare. She's well-prepared herself, dawning the garb fitting of the chief's mate. Her robes are golden-woven, arms covered, and legs hidden. It's far removed from her normal day attire where one could mistake her for a common girl. It's an outfit befitting a ruler.

"Hello Maize. I just came to pick you up-"

But upon seeing her friend, even the regal envoy can't keep steady. The sight of her own best friend makes the woman swoon. Maize wears the fabric they purchased only the day before, but it's been transformed into an outfit that's simply spectacular. The colors are cool and calming, but the way the robe's been folded and embroidered make the blind Maize appear exotic. Not only the dress, but the work done on herself as well. The normally bristly Saiyan hair is soft and glossy, styled straight but still with plenty of volume, and slight touches of cosmetics almost make her appear divine. Mellen can't believe what she sees.

"This is too much," she says in spite of herself.

Embarrassed by how she's overdone, Maize still finds something odd in her friend's tone of voice.

"Pardon?"

Realizing she's said something she shouldn't of, Mellen is quick to collect herself, "Oh, no. I'm sure this is fine! You just, _really_ surprised me! You're beautiful."

Interpreting it the only way she knows how, "Would that be, _too beautiful_?"

Brow cringing at her friend's snark, "Oh yes. You're so beautiful I almost want to mate with you myself. Now come on, everyone's starting to gather. I lead you to the square where the meeting will take place."

Giggling a bit, Maize offer her arm to be led by, "Certainly. If you would."

Arms interlocked, the friends leave for the Tribe Meeting.

The path isn't one particularly unknown to Maize, but there's a certain unease in the air. The blind woman remembers this being called a "show of force," but it still feels somewhat different. It's not exactly hostility per sey, but a trepidation. The nearby houses feel barricaded, and the streets barren of any kind of good will. Worries over her overdone preparations have eased, but have been replaced. For what, however?

Led to the meeting hall, where the men usually do battle planning when the situation arises, this is where the leaders of the two tribes will meet. Already dozen have gathered, milling around nervously among themselves. Immediately Maize realizes what she was finding odd.

"I'll leave you right here," she's taken to a corner of the large room. "I have to be on stage with my mate, so I can't stick with you. Will you be okay on your own?"

The blind woman expected as much, so she'd already been prepared to fend for herself, "Yeah. Sure."

Troubling all the same isn't that she's alone, but that she's not. Though she might be blind, her other senses are heightened far beyond anyone who retains all original faculties. Through hearing and smell, Maize can tell this hall is filled entirely with women. Younger ones at that. And if she had to guess, unmated.

Have they, have all the virgin females of their village been sold out?

* * *

At this point Squeesh was tired and exhausted and wanted to get this over with. On their journey here, he had to bend over backwards to, thanks to Umpkin's "friends," convince his leader not to attack Dekkon and simply steal all the females. They were vastly outnumbered and wouldn't get very far. It was a stupid idea no matter how one looked at it, which only made it more worrisome because it's something Umpkin would go for. That was precisely why Squeesh wanted to go alone with the Sorr Tribe's chief, because the tactician knew his decisions were given very little respect by the other tribesmen. In general, intelligence is viewed as a vice by the majority of the Saiyan race. The less voices whispering in Umpkin's ear the better.

After over a day of traveling and arguing, the Tort Tribe was in view. At the village gates, two stood waiting. One of the group recognized them as they've met several times before in battle. Of above-average height, slim yet muscular build, and annoyingly handsome features, was Dekkon. Squeesh didn't like him very much, but at least this tribe leader had a decent head on his shoulders and was capable of being reasoned with. And while he might appear leaner, his technique over raw physical power made him a frightening warrior. One thing was for certain, the Squeesh was glad he would now be an ally.

The one next to his side was not a fellow leader, but apparently his female. One look at her made even Umpkin blush. The female, Squeesh thinks he remembers her name to be Mellen, is certainly a prize. Wide hips, slightly plump features, and rack that was bigger than even his own head, Mellen would fit most Saiyan's ideal of a perfect female. It's no wonder she's the mate to the village chief. Inwardly Squeesh wishes she were one of the girl made available to them from now on.

"Welcome Umpkin, Squeesh," Dekkon seems hesitant about the unannounced additions to the meeting, "and others."

Before any of the others say something that would have this journey lead to bloodshed, Squeesh hurries ahead of the group and greets Dekkon.

"Chief Dekkon, it's a pleasure to see you again on this ceremonious occasion. For, safety's sake, and to ensure no harm should befall us before an agreement can be met, we departed with a select handful of escorts. I hope this is not disagreeable."

Dekkon takes a moment to eye this group from the Sorr Tribe. Thankfully they didn't come in such numbers that could be considered a threat, so the chief accepts this development.

"No, this is fine."

Umpkin steps past his tactician and stands before the fellow chief. He towers over Dekkon by nearly two heads, but these two men are considered equals. Mellen steps back a pace as the tension rises from their standoff. Squeesh begins to sweat.

"So," Umpkin speaks to Dekkon for the first time since last they battled, "from today forward we will be brothers."

Inwards Squeesh breathes a sigh of relief. Thank god he was actually listening to everything the smarter man said.

"Yes, brothers."

Despite being cordial, they're still passively hostile to the other. Neither lower their guard, both are ready to strike at a moments notice. In other words, they're acting like any normal males would. Both Squeesh and Mellen realize there's nothing further to worry about.

For a moment their eyes lock, and Squeesh clearly sees it on Mellen's face. Disgust. It was the kind of expression that stated, "Thank god I won't have anything to do with you." The chief's female is quick to correct herself and be diplomatic, but that moment of transparency was registered by the meticulous tactician. She despises him.

"Well, we can't very well stand here all day," Mellen takes the role of peacekeeper. "There are the final formalities that must be completed, and then we can attend the ceremony."

"Yeah," both leaders speak, very little attention paid to anything other than their rivalry.

The six from Sorr are led to a large building that's likely used for theater or assembly. They're taken to the back, however, in a small room. It's literally nothing more than a table and a few chairs. Likely this is where the Tort leaders discus war strategy and general council matters. This is where the deal between the Tort and the Sorr will be officially struck.

Umpkin, Dekkon, and only a long rectangular table between them. Squeesh stands to Umpkin rear much like Mellon does with her mate. Apparently she works in a capacity similar to the official tactician's own. Exactly how far does her influnce extend into this tribe's official affairs? Squeesh take's note. This female might actually be formidable.

"Let's begin with a reading of the proposed agreements," Dekkon starts off. "First, all hostility should immediately desist upon both sides. This includes organized actions as well as raiders. In the case of invasion from an outside third tribe, the other shall come to the defender's aid no matter what the circumstance. This is purely a measure of defense, and any joint offensive actions shall be discussed as arises. There will be no preconception of joining forces as a means of invading another tribe's territory."

"..."

Squeesh kicks Umpkin's chair. The big lug nearly already fell asleep.

"Ah, yeah."

"Second, each tribe will now be open to cohabitation. Extratribal relationships, including mating, will be allowed without supervision, but only upon consent. There will be no, 'selling off' of Tort Tribe females to make up for Sorr's diminished female population."

"Y-"

But Squeesh kicks the chair before Umpkin gets ahead of himself.

"That is under the assumption at least 50% of Sorr Tribe's eligible, approximately 27 males, are mated with Tort females over the course of 2 years. If that quota is not met, then coupling will be arranged else this agreement be void."

Dekkon tried to sneak out of this amendment by catching Umpkin napping, but Squeesh kept a vigilant watch. At failing to pull one over on them, Dekkon reluctantly agrees.

"Aye."

After taking care of the two major issues, they briefly discussed trade, taxes, joint council, and other boring yet important stuff that Umpkin wouldn't understand at all. These weren't as important, but nonetheless necessary when two tribes join hands such as they are. At least the four Sorr "Escorts" knew well enough to shut up at this point and let Squeesh do his job. As those with intelligence took the helm, and Mellen making a few points here and there as well, they progressed rapidly and wrapped up far sooner than the tactician anticipated. Honestly, this was concluding all too smoothly for Squeesh's taste, but maybe he was just being overly cautious.

"Then, we are in complete accord," Dekkon announced.

Squeesh again kicked Umpkin chair to wake him up, to which he immediately replied, "Yes, yes," in a slightly confused state.

Not particularly caring his counterpart barely understood what was going on at all, Dekkon still stood proud and extended a hand, "Then, we are brothers."

At least holding the understanding the official proceedings are complete, Umpkin stands and shakes the others hand, "Yes, brothers."

All tensions fade as everyone (Squeesh and Mellen) breathes a sigh of relief. It was tense for a while there, but all of the hard work towards today has finally come to fruition. The goal Squeesh set to accomplish has finally been met.

"So do we get the females yet?"

And then there are those asshats. The four "bodyguards" had been waiting impatiently for this moment. They came for one and only one purpose, to get their hands on Tort females. Their aim transparent, Mellen takes them apprehensively. It might be seen as selling out their virgin girls, but the Tort Tribe was getting a lot out of the agreement. However, it didn't make any easier to stomach when there were horndogs like these.

"Yup," Umpkin follows lead. "The females are all ours now!"

Squeesh face palms. Not more than 3 seconds pass and he's already spit on his sworn brother. Well, they shook hands so it's now a done deal, but that was still contentious behavior.

"There will be a ceremony and assembly now," it nearly physically hurts for Dekkon to say this. "The village girls have been assembled and have been waiting in the hall."

All too eagerly the Sorr follow Dekkon and his mate to the assembly hall. Inside, they find maybe a hundred girls waiting for this ceremony to begin. Apparently they've been made to sit for a while as they gossip loudly and display general displeasure. But upon noticing the crowd now taking the front of the stage, begin to quiet.

"What's going on?"

"Are they finally ready?"

"Who are they?"

It looks like this deal was kept secret from the general population. Squeesh isn't quite sure if this was something that should have been kept this close to the vest. The tactician's own opinion was to keep it an "open" secret.

"My fellow ladies," Mellen takes the role as speaker, nervousness and uncertainty well-hidden on her face, "we have been gathered here today to announce a wonderful alliance. Just moments ago, an agreement has been reached between the Tort and Sorr tribes. From this point forward, we shall be joined as one. We shall be family."

There's sporadic applause. Many recognize this as a good thing, but are still curious why only virgin females have been gathered here. Some appear to have an idea what this may truly be about, but nobody is outright voicing accusations. Squeesh is worried this may get out of hand.

"Hey," overhearing one of the bodyguards whispering to another, "I call that one third row from the front, on the left side."

The one spoken to looks it over, "Nice. I think I like that one on the far right."

Scratch that, Squeesh knows this will get out of hand.

"You have all been gathered here today," Tort's first female continues, "to discuss the arrangements made, and to-"

Words stop registering in Squeesh's mind. He sees _her_ in the back. In the corner, as if trying to hide, lays a extraordinarily beautiful female. She's of clean complexion, strong proportions, gorgeous silky hair, and exquisite dress. She's of darker, tanned skin, but she's stunning nonetheless. This woman might not have had the widest hips, plumpish thighs, or biggest breasts, but she was exotic, a Saiyan unique among Saiyans. Her body, it was a work of art.

And then she is lost in the uproar of the crowd. Snapping back to the matter at hand, Squeesh realizes Mellen just dropped the big news. The crowd didn't take it lightly. It'll be a while before this mobs gets under control.

Under his breath, inaudible due to the roars of the crowd, Squeesh tells himself, "Dibs."


	2. The Joint Tribe Festival

**Act 2**

 **The Joint Tribe Festival**

* * *

Maize didn't wait for her escort, didn't wait for the assembly to finish, she marched out as soon she heard the news she'd been fearing. Indeed, the virgin females of their tribe have been sold out. In truth, such a thing wasn't unheard of from other Saiyan tribes, but that Maize herself would be, by her best friend, was intolerable. The blind female couldn't stomach being in that kind of position any longer.

But Maize has to pause. In her anger and frustration, she's lost count of her steps. The blind Saiyan is aware of her general location, but not enough to know her exact position. Straight ahead could be the continuation of the road, or she could have veered off-course and end up smacking into the middle of a house. Not to mention she came here with Mellen, so she doesn't currently have her walking stick. If she isn't careful this might get dangerous.

First thing she does is take off her shoes. Touching the ground with bare feet, she can feel the cool radiance of stone. She's still on the road. Pressing harder with her toes, she notices the detail of how the rocks have been worn. She's ventured slightly off course, maybe only by 10 degrees or so. Adjusting appropriately, she follows in the wear of regular traffic, taking only one step at a time.

It takes nearly three times as long for when she was guided, but Maize finally returns to her doorstep. By now her feet are sore, back aching, and is more tired than as if she ran a marathon. And no sooner does she sit, a knock comes at her door. The homeowner doesn't bother welcoming the guest in. She already knows who it is.

"Maize! Maize are you there?" Mellen lets herself in in a panic.

The worried friend and mate to the village chief hustles into the blind Saiyan's den. Fearful of not receiving a reply, her heart practically stops upon finding someone sitting in a chair at the table. It gives her a fright.

"My lord! Why didn't you say anything? I was worried about you!"

But Maize still doesn't respond. She's still so furious any word out of her mouth might break their friendship forever.

However distant her friend is being, Mellen isn't so oblivious as to not read the atmosphere. After all, the concerns of her friend have to be the same as those of everyone else in their tribe, which she just spent the past two hours addressing.

"I know what you're thinking, but no, we didn't sell you girls out," though by her tone, she might not completely believe it. "The deal, isn't as bad as it sounds. We're only intermingling as tribes. They're not just going to snatch whatever girl they want willy-nilly."

"Do you honestly believe that?" a stern voice reprimands her. "I'm not as young as those other girls you must have been talking to all day, so don't try to fool me with whatever exchanges, provisions, or agreements you made at the negotiating table. We both know they aren't going to be so, cordial, when coming to pick up our females."

But Mellen doesn't take such admonishing words sitting down, "We didn't have a choice! Our fields are drying up and our tribe is overpopulated as it is! We needed to expand our territory to plow new fields and plant more crops! But we aren't strong enough to protect expanded farming all on our own. We, we needed an ally!"

Maize detected an oddity in Mellen's tone. It wasn't that the chief's female was lying, but almost like she didn't believe what she was saying either. The blind Saiyan with four acute senses decides to shelve that matter for now.

"I'm not upset at the deal you two struck. I trust that the situation is as serious as you make it out to be. What I'm angry about is that you two came into my home and lied to me! You told me it was a 'show of force?' Bull! You paraded us girls like it was a showcase. A gallery! And you couldn't even tell me that!"

The temperature continues to rise as the fire only receives more fuel.

"So what? Should I have told you, 'Hey, we might need to sell you off to another tribe?' You're the one full of crap! You're probably thinking right now, 'Nobody would want me anyway, so I could have just stayed home.' Admit it! That's why you're really upset! You're not mad because some girls are being sent away, or even that I lied to you. You just have it stuck in your mind that you'll never find a mate, so you never even put yourself out there and try!"

"So what if I am!" Maize is hurt that she even said it aloud, but once the dam is broke there's no stopping the flood. "Who wants a blind, defective female? In that gathering of virgin girls, I was the oldest one there. And not just by a little, by a lot! It's happened, time and time again. No male even wants to touch a female who has a chance of birthing a defective heir. I've been passed over, time and time again, until nobody even notices me anymore. I try wearing pretty clothes, keeping myself fit and clean, and all the work I've put into my hair, and it doesn't make a difference! Nobody wants me!"

Maize doesn't cry. She's far too mature to be crying over something like this. But Mellen, she doesn't see it that way. In her eyes, her friend has no more tears to spill. She approaches the conflicted companion and embraces her gently.

"Maize, my dear, you're not a normal Saiyan," Mellen strokes the back of Maize's hair. "You're smart, inventive, talented, beautiful, and you smell so nice. A normal male isn't good enough for you. I'm sorry our tribe is so small, but there is definitely someone out there who'll understand just how truly fantastic you are. You just, haven't met enough people. Maybe it could be someone from the Sorr Tribe."

In an unguarded moment, Maize speaks with the hopefulness of a child, "Do you really think so?"

"The Sorr Tribe? I don't know. One of them looks like a frog."

Maize has no idea if that's good or bad.

"No, I meant-"

"Someone out there for you? Of course. I don't know where he is, but there's definitely a male good enough for you somewhere."

Maize takes a few moments and truly digests what her friend had to say.

Then, "How much longer do you plan on touching my hair?"

"A lot longer."

"Stop it!"

"But it's so soft! It's not fair! Why can't I make _my_ hair like yours?"

"Let go already! You're smothering me with your stupidly large boobs!"

* * *

"You've been awfully quiet Squeesh." Umpkin asks, "Something on your mind?"

Indeed his thoughts have been in turmoil, but he's not the kind who likes letting it show, "Just, thinking about the future. We've got a lot to look forward to."

In a rare feat, Umpkin thinks about and analyzes his tactician's words.

"You picked yourself out a female."

Squeesh trips and nearly falls.

"What? No! Of course not!"

"Yup, I can see it," proud of himself. "So you finally set your sights on a mate."

"No! That's not-" why did Umpkin have to be so keen on unimportant matters?

"What's this?" one of the 'bodyguards' overheard their conversation. "Did someone tickle our little Squeesh's fancy?"

Whatever drives Squeesh to keep denying it, keeps going, "It's none of-"

"Hey guys!" the guard continues throwing his weight around. "Squeesh's got a female he's crushing on!"

"Really?"

"No way."

"She's out of his league."

The quartet of intruders are the very essence of encouragement.

"So, which one was she?" the original continues to invade their tactician's personal space. "I got a _good_ look at all the girls there, so I can tell you if you got a shot or not."

Deep inside, Squeesh measures and calculates their actions and intentions. If they were wondering who took his breath away, then wouldn't it be obvious? The most beautiful female there. That they even need to ask reveals they don't have a clue.

Squeesh remembers. After the uproar when the arrangement was announce, that beautiful dark female vanished. The way she was tucked away in the corner, attempting to hide, gave her a sense of nobility. Was her family rich or something, and simply had mating troubles? In any case, the others must not have noticed her.

"I keep telling you," pulling ahead of the pack, "it's not like that. It's just with this alliance we'll be able to expand our reach. Conquer new territories."

Umpkin doesn't quite buy his tactician's enthusiasm, but the others fold easily enough.

"Give it a year or so. We'll marching to battles future Saiyans will sing of in legend."

That changes the topic from females to fighting. An easy distraction. As Squeesh sees it, the less people that know about her, the better. After all, if it was widely known such a beauty existed, they'd literally kill over her. It wasn't a difficult picture to imagine, the intelligence-oriented Saiyan getting flattened in that scenario. But as long as nobody knew about her; sometimes the best way to win a battle is not to fight at all.

"So, uh, remind me again," Umpkin jumps back into the conversation. "For the joint festival, what were we supposed to do again?"

Actually, they took the lion's share of responsibilities for the coming event.

"Hunt, and a lot. We'll need enough meat to feed two tribes, and get it to them the day before. They'll handle all the cooking and preparation. Also gotta clear out a field between our two territories, and handle seating, so we'll have to cut down some trees. I'll get the carpenters on that. Gotta get some oil too." Checking the list in his head. "Oh, but they're handling the booze."

"Yeah!" the Sorr's Tribe Leader roars. "Let's do this!"

* * *

Maize has been worried about this day ever since Mellen rushed over to cheer her up. Her friend knew her better than anyone, maybe even herself, and she was right that the blind female shies from going out. The Tribe meeting was one thing, because Maize was told all she had to do was attend, but the festival will be a social gathering where she'll be expected to _talk to strangers_. How in the world could Maize possibly pull off that?

"I'm coming in," Maize hears Mellen's voice.

She doesn't recall if her friend even knocked.

"What are you doing?" Mellen scolds upon seeing the sorry state of Maize. "Why aren't you ready yet?"

Slumped over in her chair, she barely even motions to greet her.

"Just go on without me. I'm not going to make it."

"Don't give me that!" hands on her hips. "After all the trouble I went to trick-ahem, convince you to come, and you're chickening out?"

That slip up was on purpose.

"I can't do it. Just leave me be. I'll live the rest of my life as the Witch of the Forest."

"Hogwash!"

Approaching, the mother of three picks up the unruly child and drags her to her room. Dumping her on the bed, Mellen heads to the closet. Before getting ahead of herself, the friend remembers the rule of never touching anything in the closet. Maize won't know what outfit is placed where.

"Let's see. What happened to the outfit you wore the other time?"

"I hid it. There's no way I'll make it through the night if I wear that thing and everyone tries to talk to me."

Mellen sighs. Baby steps.

"Okay then. We have that white and tan dress that matches your skin so well." Then remembers explaining colors alone doesn't mean a thing to Maize. "It's the more conservative of your outfits. You might pick up the attention of the more timid and homely males."

Maize, still lifeless, "I don't think I could deal with that. Neither of us would be able to say a word. Scratch that. I'll go with it."

Mellen's gonna end up with wrinkles after tonight, she swears.

"You realize the point of tonight is to get hit on by males, right?" Moving on. "Let's see. There's the yellow and purple dress? Honestly, I don't know why you haven't burned this gaudy thing."

"It's comfortable!" Maize complains. "It was a rare and expensive fabric that was hard to come by! It's just, the trader lied when he told me the colors matched."

Hence why Mellen now _always_ accompanies the blind Saiyan on shopping trips.

"Let's see, the yellow and blue tunic..."

Mellen doesn't give an explanation, but she also passes on this. The tunic is short sleeved, exposing Maize's thick-for-a-female arms. It might intimidate some of the more delicate males, while attracting the meat heads who wouldn't have any clue how to treat the blind female gently. The last kind of guy she wants her friend matting with is a brute.

"Um, the leather blouse with the red skirt and ash cloak?"

That tone of voice peeked Maize's interest. It was the kind of voice that said, "it isn't bad but please don't pick it."

"How would I look in it?"

Realizing she's been caught, the friend with perfect vision contemplates lying. But she feels it. Maize might not have eyesight, but her _focus_ is boring holes through the fashion guide. If she so dares to lie, she will be seen through.

Sighing, "It makes you look like a social recluse who doesn't want to be there, but doesn't have a choice. But if you pull down the hood and wear the cloak as a mantle, the dress is actually pretty. Anyone who dares approach you will be in for a pleasant surprise."

Maize knew her instincts were right. This outfit is the perfect balance of what Mellen wants for her friend and Maize is willing to do. The blind female cannot simply abandon her comfort zone, but she can be a little brave. If she is to meet her mate tonight, he would need to be a little brave too.

"I don't know what I was expecting," Mellen resigns. "Come on, I'll help you change. It won't be much longer until the males from the Sorr Tribe arrive."

* * *

Squeesh could easily tell, Mellen didn't like talking to him. What official capacity the female held in the tribe her mate was responsible for, he couldn't tell, but since this alliance of tribes largely involved Tort's females, it makes sense she'd take the helm in this endeavor. As such, Mellen's contact with Sorr's representative increased dramatically. Upon the commencement of the festival between the two tribes, Umpkin immediately took it upon himself to challenge Tort's liquors, so that left the tactician to handle all the formalities. While the deal was already set, there are still plenty of details that must be covered.

"So, are these all your eligible males? There seem to be a lot more then what was mentioned."

Squeesh himself gripes, "Actually, at the mention of a festival, many of our mated males expressed an interest. I explicitly mentioned it was for singles only, but plenty who are already spoken for managed to sneak in with the crowd. As long as there aren't any _indiscretions_ tonight _,_ you shouldn't have a thing to worry about. They're only interested in the food and wine, and maybe a little bit of flirting. By tomorrow they'll have no more interest in what happens with the Tort Tribe."

It didn't make the chief's mate feel any better, but she herself knows how incorrigible Saiyan males can be. She herself had to fight more than a few Torts who wanted to be "chaperons" off with a stick. There's little else Mellen could do but accept it.

"Is that so." Then, a thought comes to mind, "What about your leader and yourself? Will you be _partaking_ in the festivities?"

Thus far Squeesh has stuck close to the overwatch position with Mellen, but if he were single then certainly he'd want to _partake_ himself.

"Our leader Umpkin is already attached, and is currently working on, developing, brotherhood with your male."

Currently Umpkin and Dekkon are in the midst of a drinking contest.

"Oh dear," Mellen sighs upon noticing, a hand is placed on her cheek.

"As for myself, I'm single."

Mellen seems fit to abandon her directing position and come to the aid of her husband, but Squeesh's reveal caught her notice.

"Then why aren't you flirting within the crowds?"

Whenever asked this repeatedly by his own Sorr, Squeesh could hold it close to the vest without effort. But when confronted by such a pretty female, even he can be cowed.

He stutters in spite of himself, "I-it's just, I'm better suited to watch over things like this."

Hardly anyone would fall for that act.

In a teasing tone, "Oh? Then, did someone catch your interest when you came last time?" A hand on her chin, "I see, I see. So basically, you've been searching for _her_ this whole time and haven't found her yet. Got it."

"What? No! I mean-"

Placing one of her soft hands on his shoulder causes his actions to arrest, "It's fine. You don't have to admit it. I know how proud you males in positions of power can be. Some simply take what they want because they think they're owed it, but others like you have put your responsibilities so far ahead of yourselves, that when you find something you want, it's hard to overcome yourself. Dekkon is much the same way." Patting him a few more times on the shoulder, "So when you find _her_ , just bite your tongue and go for it."

Squeesh couldn't oppose her Truly, Mellen is a force in and of herself. Had he not already seen the dark female, and she herself weren't the mate to _the tribe's chief_ , he might go after her instead. But all the same he takes the words to heart and weakly nods.

"Good." Turning to her male, who seems to be having trouble, "Now, I better go rescue Dekkon before he drowns. He loves his drink, but isn't really that well in handling it. Later."

And with a cordial wave, she embarks to defend her mate. Squeesh watches her go, suffering a hint of lingering affection, but shakes it free of himself. He was letting himself get distracted in the worst way. It was a bit difficult, but he had to peel his eyes away from Mellen's mesmerizing hips as they swayed while she walked away. Now wasn't the time to be tempted. After all, he came here with a purpose already in mind.

Presently alone at the overwatch, the tactician doubles his efforts in searching for his unclaimed prize. First he focuses on the crowds where many of the Sorr males gathered. Certainly a female such as his prize would garner a lot of attention, but no groups match that criteria. When he noticed her at the ceremony, she was doing her best to hide. She's likely doing so now as well, and if she isn't being swamped by males, it only means she hasn't been discovered yet. That's very good for him. Now his search matches a different criteria; look for those who've been singled out, trying to hide.

Meanwhile Mellen took over the stumbling Dekkon's position at the challenge table. She matched the large Umpkin drink for drink. For a moment it was getting bad for the Sorr leader, but he took a desperate act and grabbed an entire barrel of wine as his cup. Mellen protested, as she couldn't lift a likewise heavy container, and was simply outpaced. After completely draining the barrel, Umpkin roared in declared victory. The crowd celebrated his achieved feat. And then he tipped over like a cut tree. Everybody silenced as they found the Sorr Chief frozen on the ground. Eventually he began to snore. Laughter and more cheers circled throughout as the festival continued around his unconscious self.

If the dark female's aim was to hide, she's doing a damn good job of it. Squeesh still can't find her after nearly half an hour. Did she not attend in the first place? Possibly. At the ceremony it seemed she was offended at the very notion of their agreement, and was possibly the only one who walked out on it altogether. While it pained Squeesh she wasn't present tonight, he could use his position and pull some strings to discover her identity. Likely Mellen would cooperate.

But then something catches the tactician's eyes. Sitting alone, far in a corner, is _someone_ dressed in a cloak with the hood drawn. It's as if this person doesn't want to be here but doesn't have a choice. Does this fit the dark female's personality, or is it someone else? There's only one way to find out.

* * *

So far, everything went as planned. Maize kept the veil over her face and simply enjoyed the atmosphere. The food was delicious, the music acceptable (Saiyan's aren't really known for their dedication to the arts), and the crowd lively. At first it terrified the blind female to be surrounded by so much activity, but after a while she simply let the atmosphere overtake her. Once she did that, she was finally able to enjoy herself a little.

Through her heightened four senses, she more than heard what was taking place around her, she _felt_ it. The mingling between tribes initiated with a bumpy start, but relations were gradually smoothing over. Sorr aren't necessarily the brutes they were made out to be, some of the females found them interesting, and a few actually began courting. For an alliance between tribes, it was certainly a pleasant start.

It wasn't without incident however. There were a few arguments between Tort males who sneaked in, Sorr who were getting a little touchy, and a couple mated males who were too close to flirting with infidelity. Overall however, the festival was heading in a good direction. Although it was pretty hilarious when Mellen literally drank the Sorr's Chief Umpkin under the table (you can't consider that his win).

"Hey, isn't that-" is caught by Maize's exceptional ears.

"Sorr's Tactician?"

"Doesn't he look like a frog?"

And a few others giggle. This, frog-faced tactician, seems to be heading their way. Apparently he was also present at the ceremony the other day. Even if he's an important person of power, if he's single, it shouldn't be surprising he'd mingle with the females.

Actually, it appears he's heading right for Maize's empty table. She's been spotted! All forgotten anxieties return as a sort of nausea sets. Stomach muscles cramping, it's all it takes not to get up and walk away. But Maize doesn't. She chooses to be brave.

"May I sit here?" a peculiar voice is directed to her. It sort of does resemble a croak from a toad.

Feeling herself receding further underneath her hood, the blind female manages a feeble, "Go ahead."

Indeed does he sit, but doesn't much after that. She can sense him quivering. He's nervous too. That she's not the only one struggling, it helps Maize build just a bit of courage.

"Is there something I can do for you?" only now realizing it to be a stupid question. If he's approaching her at this festival, there's only _one_ thing he could want.

"Um, yeah," he croaks. "I'm, looking for someone."

Oh, then it wasn't that _one_ thing? This helps the female relax.

"Oh really?" sounding too relieved. Then realizing, "I don't know how much help I can be, but I'll do what I can."

He said all this, but he's still hesitant to begin. Maize has nearly completely let down her guard.

"Um, how about we start with the name of who you're looking for?"

"I don't know. All I did was see her for but a moment, but I was completely enraptured. I think I am stricken."

The way he speaks is different, aside from his frogish voice. There's an unusual grasp on language, and an intelligence behind his words. He doesn't appear to be a heavy handed brute, so maybe she can relax around him.

"Go on."

Something seems to take hold of him, and again his words fall silent. But words do come, except they might not have been the words intended.

"You're voice is so pretty."

Even Maize's words become culled.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-"

Such careless words reminds the female of Tomoto. That child is honest to a fault and sometimes speaks things no other would dare so aloud. These childish words from this male causes Maize to giggle.

"No, it's quite alright. Mr," then realizes she has no idea his name.

"Oh! You might not remember me, but I was at the ceremony the other day. I am the Sorr Tribe's tactician, Squeesh."

"Well Squeesh, my name is Maize." Getting comfortable, "Why don't you give me a description of this mystery female."

"Um, she was a very beautiful female. She has darker, tanned skin, and luscious hair."

Beautiful, dark, with good hair. Two of those descriptions Maize wouldn't be able to tell one way or the other, and she doesn't make a habit of going around touching other people's hair.

"That's not a lot to go on. Tell me more. What was your impression of her?"

"Um, well, she was secluded. She didn't seem to like crowds. At the ceremony, seemed to not want to be there. She might have even found it insulting. I don't know. As soon as what was announced, she left when no one was looking.

Maize has to stop and think. Preferred to be alone, maybe even shy, and left as soon as the announcement was made. So did someone else leave at the same time she did?

Wait.

"Ah, um," now it's Maize's turn to get nervous, "did you, perhaps, see what she was wearing?"

Growing bolder the more Squeesh is speaking with Maize, "Yes. It was a lovely blue and white robe, with gold embroidery."

When Maize had gone shopping with Mellen and her kids, those were the colors she'd been told she'd purchased. Squeesh couldn't possibly mean, he was searching for Maize?

"Please, that is you, is it not?" he begs.

So incredibly embarrassed, cheeks warm and blush, she tries to further draw the hood over her face.

"Ah, no. I don't know who you are talking about."

"It is you," even a daft male would be able to see through Maize's lie. "Please, show me your face."

There wasn't much she could do. The festival is too far from the village for Maize to run away with any hope of finding her way home, and attention has been gathered by surrounding eavesdroppers. Some of the nearby girls know the hooded female to be Maize, so of course they would be interested. Denying any further would be pathetic and known throughout the two tribes by tomorrow. While she might have been shy, she had no intention of purposefully sabotaging her own reputation.

"Very well."

With trembling fingertips, Maize draws back her hood.

* * *

The face revealed is indeed the one Squeesh remembers. He knew it as soon as he first heard Maize's voice. A voice that smooth and lovely could only belong to someone equally physically beautiful. Now that he sees her up close, he can only further appreciate how exotic her features. Darker skin, smooth and glossy hair, and a even a fresh and enchanting smell. Even her tail has been extensively brushed to a golden sheen. And her eyes-

Her eyes are closed.

"W-what's the matter? Why do you close your eyes?"

Maize almost can't seem to face him, "It's, it's better this way."

Squeesh is left confused. Why won't she look at him? Is it, because he looks like a frog? He heard others giggling about it as he approached, but chose not to pay them any heed. After all, he's been hearing it his entire life. If there had to be a main factor as to why he has yet to find a mate, it's likely because of that. This is why he tried so hard on this alliance, behaved himself to the best of his ability, so that others would see all of his good features despite this one flaw. And now there are people who won't even look at him?

"Do you insult me?" despite himself boiling, Squeesh manages to keep from bursting.

"What? No!" Getting desperate, "It's just, I can't."

"So I offend you. I know I'm not handsome, and that you're beautiful, and that we aren't a match, but you would go so far as to not even look at me?"

Maybe she doesn't intend to be spiteful, but her actions appear quite so. He thought so when first seeing her, but Maize appears something regal. Is her house so old and traditional, she indeed acts like a princess?

"No! That's not it! I just, can't see you."

Their argument is further drawing the attention of others, which only further fuels Squeesh's frustration. He feels a spotlight on him, drawing the mocking of the audience. He feels like a jester put on spectacle. The old him, that fought tooth and nail to make it to Sorr's number 2, is resurfacing.

"Then what is it?" he finds himself yelling. "Is it because I'm ugly? Because of tradition? Are you part of some crazy new religion that forbids you from seeing a male's face? What is it?"

Frightened by his outburst, she's trembling. But Maize doesn't retreat. Swallowing hard, she seems to gather a little bit of courage.

"No. I mean it literally. I can't see."

Maize finally does as he requested. He thought her exotic and unique, and only further does as she opens her eyelids and reveals silver irises. For a moment, Squeesh finds them incredibly beautiful as well. All Saiyans have black iris. There is no exception, except for Maize. But there's something beyond their uniqueness. They're also eerie. It takes a moment, but Squeesh realizes they don't reflect light. And it dawns upon him. Maize said she can't see, said she meant it literally, and actually meant it literally. She's blind.

"What joke is this?"

Upon hearing those words, in that tone, Maize recognized something. She retreats a step out of her seat, holding herself, and seems to shrink. It's the same scene that's faced her before each and every rejection.

"I don't care what you look like," but there is still something in her that wants to contest this rejection, something that might seem to understand Squeesh's own frustration. "I don't care if we don't match. All I want is someone to hold. Someone who could look passed my own imperfections. So it doesn't matter if you have a frog's face. So, can't we at least get to know each other?"

Offering a hand, "As a matter of fact, I happen to like fr-"

Squeesh heard nothing after the words "frog's face" were uttered by her beautiful voice. What cut off her speech was the Sorr Warrior hurling a fist right into the blind female's cheek. It was a blow so unexpected and filled with wild emotion, Maize could never have anticipated it. She's dropped to the ground like a sack of rocks.

"What kind of joke is this!" he repeats, this time to the audience that's, no doubt, providing him their undivided attention. "We propose an alliance, and you give us this? A blind, defective female? Do you see us Sorr as your mutt? Starved for whatever table scraps you throw off your plate! Do you expect us to be satisfied with such garbage? And it's not just this one, but all of your females are ugly! They are the frail, the sick, shunned, and rejected! I demand you show us your real girls! The ones you've kept hidden from us!"

After such a tirade, nobody said a word. Of course both Tort and Sorr find his actions reprehensible. To hit your female isn't exactly uncommon within a household, but doing so in public, against someone who isn't your mate, and a cripple, is totally unacceptable. Nobody would dare back Squeesh's actions.

Realizing he's the only one who thinks this way, and that he's being ostracized, the fuming Saiyan stomps off in a huff. Even his own subordinates don't dare approach him.

Even if Maize isn't the most popular person in the tribe, there isn't a soul who wouldn't offer her sympathy. Since her known friend Mellen doesn't seem to be present, one of the nearby girls approaches to offer the blind female a hand. Except Maize isn't where she was only moments prior. She's vanished without a trace.

* * *

Nobody saw it, but Maize left in a flash. What hurt more than the punch, and even more than the words, was the rejection. Again, once again she was defined by her blindness. It's happened so many times before one would think she'd be used to it, but this time it was different. Squeesh, he was actually interested in her. He didn't see her defect, he didn't see her weakness, he didn't see what every other male found in her. Squeesh even called her beautiful. Maize never had another male tell her so. And for all of that to be overturned just because of her lack of eyesight, and she couldn't stand it.

So she ran. Maize ran so fast her body became a blur. It didn't matter that she couldn't see, that any mishap could prove disastrous, she charged forward with reckless abandon. And was she fast.

Maize limited the time her feet touched the ground. Instead of running, she leaped in great strides. Any rock or twig that normally would have tripped her, were instead crushed underfoot. These aren't the footfalls of a simple blind female.

Heading in only a vague, general direction towards her home, in little time she comes to an detachment of trees. Coming to a rapid stop right at the edge of the clearing, she pauses. It's only a for a moment, but she stops. The blind Saiyan's hypersensitive nose tells her; these are her trees, this is her forest. After only that brief rest, she continues into the woods.

As trees provide greater obstacles than simple pebbles upon the plains, her speed as been greatly reduced. However, she performs a deftness, a specialty, of maneuvering between trees. Maize is fully, 100%, no-doubt-about-it blind, but no one would be able to tell. It's as if the trees speak to her, warns her of it's perils, and she trusts their guidance explicitly. Her progress towards home is harmonious, nearly as lovely as her own visage.

And then she trips over a rock.

Crashing with no small fanfare, it's the kind of tumble that would make an elite Saiyan Warrior cringe. No only the initial fall, but the tumbling, crashing about, and eventual sudden stop when her spine slams into one of those very informative trees. Afterwards she lays still on the ground. One would assume she would then add another disability to her blindness.

But she rises. Wearily, but she again takes a stand. She continues forward. However, she doesn't rely on the ground as she did before. Instead she takes for the branches. Leaping between, grabbing and swinging from vines, she traverses the forest like a, well, like a monkey. Truly, this is her environment.

Eventually Maize reaches her destination, though it's not her home. Instead what she seeks is a landmark. It's a clearing in the forest, a hidden little cove, with but a giant boulder resting in the center. Taller than her by a factor of two, it's diameter is even larger than her own house. Yet the blind female faces it, faces it like an opponent to overcome.

"Aaaarrrrrgggghhhhh!" Maize screams, little different than a beast.

Her fist slams into the hard rock surface, and then, to no one's anticipation, through it. Upon her punch a portion of the solid rock crumbles. Pebbles break away and a spray of particles erupts. To say the least, Maize's fist is harder than a centuries old boulder.

But it doesn't stop at just one punch. Maize continues beating on the inanimate object without regards of appearances or her own safety. And her own cries continue, mixing beast-like howls with obscenities. This is a very different person than who everybody knows. Even her own best friend Mellen has never see Maize like this. Than again, there is a lot about this female nobody else knows.

* * *

 _I had a hard time deciding what kind of genre this story fits in. It's a drama through and through, but it's also a love story. However, if it's a love story, it's definitely not a romance. That will become abundantly clear in the following chapters._

 _I wanted to post this a week ago, but a shakeup at work with my schedule prevented me from doing so. Things are starting to fall back into place, so I'm starting to pick up a rhythm again. I'll try to keep up a momentum, but no promises._

 _~Kyle Castorena_


End file.
